


Winter

by CaptainCrusher



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:50:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCrusher/pseuds/CaptainCrusher
Summary: I wanted to incorporate some non-American traditions into Star Trek, so this fic includes lucia traditions (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Lucy%27s_Day#Sweden ). Lucia is about celebrating light in the middle of the winter, but there are no seasons in space. So it's all metaphorical.





	

When Garak was a child, living in space seemed like an enviable existence. He would lie quiet at night, staying awake long after he should, hoping for his father to arrive home. To occupy his thoughts while he waited he would look out the window towards the sky. At clear nights, when the smog from the city didn’t rise and choke the view, he could see the stars. He would dream of going up there, fantasize about the glory that could await a young man wanting to make Cardassia proud. In the twinkle of the distant stars there was promise of adventure. He often fell asleep as the hour grew long, in vain waiting for the creek of the front door.  
As a man he once again waited, watching the stars. But there was no adventure in exile. While he had once wished only to leave Cardassian soil, he now wished for nothing but to step on it again. Somewhere up there was the sun of Cardassia Prime - as distant as any of the other stars. Sometimes the twinkle of the stars that he fell asleep under as a boy only seemed to mock him.  
The sting of his banishment had become more painful than ever before. The cold seemed harder to bare and the darkness seemed thicker. Where it’s beauty before had been giving him some comfort, now not even the bright lights from the wormhole could penetrate the dark. Garak came into the habit of closing his store early and retreat to his quarters, where he curled into blankets. It was during one of those days Julian found him.  
\- Garak?  
Garak only mumbled a response. In the sudden wake from his slumber, he only half hard the sound as the door to his quarters opened.  
\- Are you in there? Julian’s voice was much closer this time, but still muffled.  
Garak realized that he had fallen asleep inside a veritable cocoon of blankets, pillows and at least two sweaters. As he opened his eyes, all he could see was Inkarian wool. From the outside, his shape was completely hidden. The only clue to his whereabouts was the tip of his tail sticking out under a pillow. Garak tried to move. His muscles ached from sleeping in that uncomfortable position. He managed to free his head from the layers of fabric and sat up in the bed.  
Julian sat down on the edge of the bed. He squinted at Garak’s layered appearance, like he usually did when he was about to make a disarming joke.  
\- I was going to buy you a blanket, but I see there’s no need.  
\- What do you want, Doctor?  
\- I wanted to talk to you about how you feel.  
\- Oh, you don’t need to worry about me… I just fell asleep while thinking about the latest Pendar Mara holonovel.  
Garak freed himself himself from his cocoon and got up from the bed. The harsh drop in temperature hit his skin like he had opened the door to a Bajoran mountain.  
\- Garak… I know you have been feeling down lately.  
Garak didn’t respond. He went across the room and sat down in the chair by the window. He wrapped his tail around himself, in a futile attempt to chase away the cold. Julian stayed at the bed, seemingly also without words for the time being. Garak shivered slightly. The silence in the room became longer, but Julian seemed unbothered. Garak on the other hand found it uncomfortable. Maybe not the silence in itself. But he could feel Julian looking at him.  
Julian looked at him with a face that had his concern written all over it. Both the concern stemming from his profession and the one that was born out of all their lunches, all their discussions, all the lies and all the truths never spoken.  
\- I could have sworn the station has grown colder, Garak said finally.  
Without saying a word, Julian took a blanket from the bed and walked over to Garak. He put it over him. Garak found the scene undignified, but didn’t comment on the matter.  
\- It’s like a winter has just… swept through the promenade, he continued and stared out towards the distant stars. I know what you are going to say, Doctor. This is a space station. It has no seasons.  
Julian took some wide steps with those long legs of his to the replicator. He mumbled something to it. A moment later he returned with a cup of something that had an appealing steam coming from it. Garak closed his hand around the cup and sniffed the red liquid. It had a specific smell, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.  
\- It will warm you up from the inside out, said Julian.  
\- An Earth drink, I presume? Garak said, not hiding the tone of suspicion.  
\- It’s called glögg, said Julian. Drink! Doctor’s orders.  
Garak took a big sip from the cup. The warmth spread down his throat to his stomach, like he had swallowed the sensation from one of those blankets. He took another big sip and couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as the warmth continued to radiate through him. Julian smiled in that smug, insufferably human way.  
\- There’s something else, the young doctor said. How about you come to your shop tomorrow morning? I want to show you something.  
Against his better judgement, Garak nodded. 

The lights had dimmed on the promenade, although it was never fully dark. There was a sense of peace and calm there during the artificial night that could never be felt during the day. Garak walked silently on the upper level. Not even the wormhole opened, so that only the stars held him company. Quark had closed the upper entrance, but the lock was no match for Garak’s nimble fingers. He snuck in unseen and unheard, watching the scene in the bar below.  
Julian stood in the center of the bar. His brow furrowed as he watched his reflection in a mirror placed on the bar top. His messy, brown hair seemed to bother him again. He was dressed in a white robe that covered his shape from the neck to his feet. Jadzia appeared from somewhere behind the bar with a red ribbon that she tied around his waist.  
\- Not too tight, Julian was heard saying.  
Garak couldn’t hear Dax’s response, but it might have been a profanity because Julian noticeably rolled his eyes. Dax was also dressed in a white robe, but she didn’t tie any ribbons around her own waist. She made some quip about how unfashionable the robe was, which Julian didn’t seem to hear because he was busy frowning at his own reflection again.  
\- Hu-mans and their strange traditions.  
Garak spun around. Quark took a step out the shadows. The little man had been careful not to startle Garak while he was close enough to have his neck snapped.  
\- They are indeed a peculiar people, Garak agreed.  
They both looked down at the scene below.  
\- I only let them in here so early because Dax promised to forget that latinum I owe her since we last played tongo.  
\- There is profit in everything.  
Quark made a face like he agreed and then returned to searching for lost coins. Garak looked down at the bar again. Dax had disappeared out of sight but Garak could hear her humming a song something nearby. Julian starting humming the same tune, while he flattened his robe and looked critically at himself in the mirror.  
Garak’s eyes lingered at Julian for a moment, as he was pleasingly invisible in the shadows above. Then he turned around and left the same way he came in.

He heard the singing first. Not the words, because it was too far away. But the intonations, the high note that undoubtedly belonged to lieutenant Dax. Garak dropped the dress he had been working on while patiently waiting and walked up the step, towards his shop door. He held his hand on the door frame and looked out on the promenade, towards the direction of Quark’s. At first, all he saw was Julian.  
Julian had dropped his boyish confusion and had a serious look in his eyes. He held his hands together in front of him, as he slowly paced down the promenade. His toes where just visible as the robe swirled up over his feet.  
While Garak had seen him trying to keep his boisterous hair under control at Quark’s, there was no need now. His hair was pressed down in place by a crown from which six lit candles rose. At first Garak worried about Julian’s head catching fire. Then he saw constable Odo’s figure appear, looming appropriately close to Julian. Assured of the constable keeping check, Garak took a closer look at what happened behind Julian. More faces Garak knew followed behind him, making a slow procession. Keiko O’Brien and Dax wore the white robes he had seen at Quark’s. Kira walked behind them, wearing a more Bajoran looking outfit. She seemed happy to participate, but had obviously made considerations with regards to her own traditions.  
Jake walked behind Kira, wearing a cone with stars on it. It amused Garak, but Jake didn’t look too thrilled at the arrangement.  
They all held tight to candles in their hands and sang. Kira with some uncertainty, Dax with unfettered joy. He could hear the words now. First a few here and there, then more as they repeat. He heard words like “winter” and “shadows”, but it wasn’t until they got closer that he could put them together. It was a song about letting the light chase away the dark.  
Molly came last in the procession, dressed as what Garak guessed was a ginger bread cookie. She momentarily lost focus and stopped to climb something out of sight to Garak. But major Kira swept her up and returned her to the place without missing a note.  
Keiko’s voice carried towards him, her voice urged him to welcome the bringer of light when the darkness seemed at its most impenetrable. When it seemed like the winter would never end, there could still be light.  
The words should have meant nothing, he thought to himself. It wasn’t his traditions. People on Cardassia didn’t bring lights into dark caves and tried to sing away the shadows.  
Yet. His eyes met Julian’s. Under the crown of light, a smile appeared. The fire he carried seemed to momentarily fade at the sight of the light that was always right there, in his eyes. And just then, at that moment, it felt a little warmer where Garak stood.  
Like spring was coming.


End file.
